


Ichor in Violet

by tirsynni



Series: Sacrifice to... [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Pre-Thor (2011), Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-23 18:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13793862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tirsynni/pseuds/tirsynni
Summary: When Thor learns that Loki can travel to other realms without Heimdall seeing, of course he convinces Loki to take them both to Jotunheim to hunt Frost Giants. There an accident unravels centuries of lies and threatens to unravel Loki, too.





	1. Chapter 1

“This is madness, Thor.”

“Yet I notice you still travel with me.”

“To keep your idiot self from being killed. This is --”

“You fret like an old woman! Relax, Brother. All will be well.”

The glee in Thor’s words killed any comfort Loki might have taken from them. As it was, there was little comfort to be found anywhere in the frozen plains of Jotunheim. Loki didn’t even get the comfort of blaming Thor completely for this madness. 

Less than twelve hours ago, he slipped to Thor that he could hide from Heimdall’s gaze. Loki recognized his mistake as soon as Thor’s eyes lit up, and his efforts to prevaricate only made things worse. Thus instead of a full armed group traveling into the wilds of Jotunheim, now only Loki and Thor traveled in the land of the Frost Giants. Alone. Without backup, without anyone knowing where they were.

If they survived this, Loki was going to kill Thor himself.

Thor laughed and pounded Loki’s shoulder, ignoring Loki’s flinch. The icy tundra around them swallowed the sound of Thor’s laugh, leaving nothing but the howling wind. Snow whipped them, biting through their coats, and Loki was grateful that at least had a better tolerance of the cold than Thor.

All he had to do was refuse to cast his spell or even drop it now, and Loki hated Thor when his brother threw him another grin and kept walking forward. They both knew he wouldn’t do it, would  _ never _ do it.

Loki gritted his teeth and looked around. Endless fields of white and blue. They both deserved whatever happened. 

Thor bounded forward through the snow and looked around like he expected a Jotunn to leap out at any moment. He laughed and laughed and the wind devoured the sound like a hungry wolf. “Do you think they bleed?” He turned on his heel to face Loki and almost slipped on a patch of ice. Loki rolled his eyes and followed at a more sedate pace. “Or just crack like rocks?”

Loki didn’t care. He rubbed his hands together, fingers twining over and over. The cold didn’t bother him much, but he still hated this place. He shivered with revulsion. Thor used to tell him stories about Frost Giants hiding under his bed and hiding around dark corners. He talked about the monsters gnawing on Loki’s thin bones and how Loki’s small self would barely count as a snack. He only stopped when Frigga scolded him after Loki had too many nightmares.

Thor’s smile softened when he saw Loki’s shiver. “Do not worry, Brother. We won’t tarry long. One Frost Giant apiece and then we will return to the realm eternal. You will have new parts for your spells!”

For a breath, Loki almost smiled back, then he caught the tone in his final words: patronizing, like he was talking about toys and not the same magic which let Thor have his adventure. Loki squeezed his hands together and looked around. 

Nothing. Just nothing. For some reason, that was worse than an army of monsters.

Loki shivered again, but on the hunt for monsters, Thor didn’t notice. He looked around like he expected them to come leaping from the snow, nothing but blood red eyes and horns like bilgesnipes. 

Perhaps Loki envisioned the wrong army. Fingers squeezed so tight together they hurt, Loki imagined Thor, King instead of Prince, charging through the snow, countless Aesir behind him. He hoped when that day came, Thor had a better plan.

King Thor would charge through the snow and there would be Loki at his shoulder still, a pathetic shadow.

Thor growled and kicked the snow, sending flurries and ice flying. “Is there nothing on this wretched world? Can you find anything with your tricks, Brother?”

Tricks? His  _ tricks _ got them here, hid them, and now Thor wanted his  _ tricks _ to find his opponents for them? Loki glared at Thor, a blast of sun amidst the snow, and his chest  _ hurt _ . He  _ should _ leave Thor there and...and… He twisted his hands together, clever fingers aching. And he knew he wouldn’t, more fool he.

Thor caught sight of Loki’s face and waved a hand at him. “Save such looks for our foes! We will --”

Perhaps if Loki hadn’t been so trapped in his thoughts and if Thor hadn’t been so busy teasing, they might have noticed the ground cracking under them. Instead, neither had time to do more than blink at the other when the snow shuddered beneath their feet and gave way.

“Brother!” Thor howled, and then there was nothing but snow and dark.

Loki tried to grab Thor but he couldn’t find him in the rocks and soft white and sharp blue. Everything blurred and he didn’t know which was was up,  _ things _ hitting him from all sides and he couldn’t find Thor, couldn’t find himself, and he thought he was screaming but couldn’t tell over the roar of falling snow. Then something hit his head and snow filled his mouth and he couldn’t track anything anymore.

For a long time, it seemed like Loki was still falling. He didn’t know when he stopped. He just knew that he hurt so completely he didn’t know what part of him didn’t hurt. He stared at the mess of white and blue before him and quietly choked on snow. It filled his mouth and tasted like nothing.

“--other? Brother!”

Loki groaned and twisted. His ribs hurt. He thought he landed on a rock. Thor probably thought it was all good fun, he thought sourly. He twisted again and now he was on his back, staring at the distant sky. How far had they fallen? Was that even the sky? Everything was the same damned color on this damned world.

“Brother!” Thor shouted, and yes: there was the headache. Right on cue. Loki groaned and forced himself into a sitting position. His legs were buried under the snow. Past his legs was Thor. At last, Loki found a reason to smile. All he could see of his brother was his head and one flailing arm. Limp golden hair covered half his face, and Loki could see ice gathering at the tips. Thor looked more indignant than anything, so Loki doubted he was injured. 

Of course, what could hurt the legendary Thor?  _ Loki _ was the one who limped away from their journeys, while Thor laughed and readied himself for the next challenge. Another reminder of their places.

“Excellent adventure so far, Brother,” Loki called back. He looked around beyond Thor and sighed. The pit was deep and round but not large: pacing room at most. A trap, perhaps? Or maybe just another sign of how wretched Jotunheim was. Loki sighed again and pushed himself to his feet.

Or, at least, he tried to. Pain flared in his ankle, and he fell back with a grunt. Thor stopped his ungraceful flailing. “Loki?!”

Loki looked down but couldn’t see his ankle through the snow. Had he twisted it in the fall? Perhaps even broken it? It didn’t  _ feel _ like that, though. Frowning, he leaned forward and swiped the snow off his legs. The snow was heavy and thick against his hands but not as cold as he expected. It clumped against his gloves before he finally pushed off enough snow to see his leg.

Beady red eyes blinked at him. The creature looked like a blue rock except for its mouth, clamped on Loki’s ankle like a snake’s, and its ugly eyes. Loki gasped and whipped out a knife, slamming it down. The odd creature squeaked and died, its mouth loosening from his ankle. As it fell backwards, Loki saw several rows of fangs in its mouth. Its blood, purple like a bruise, darkened the surrounding snow.

“Loki, are you all --  _ Oomph! _ ”

Thor clawed his way free from the snow, only to fall face-first onto the ground. Loki spared him a grimace before turning back to his ankle. Crown Prince of Asgard, indeed.

His ankle ached, but not nearly enough for the damage shown. Saliva designed to numb, to better allow the creature to attack, Loki mused, seeing tendons flex under seeping blood and shredded fabric. He saw a flash of bone in the mess of flesh. Bright red blood stained everything, from white skin to whiter snow.

Not good. Not good at all.

“Brother,” Thor whispered, suddenly kneeling at his back, and when had he moved so close? Thor clamped a hand on his shoulder and it seemed to sear through the layers, burning hot compared to all the snow and ice. Loki didn’t look away from his mess of an ankle to look at him, but the worry in Thor’s voice rang clear. “That --”

Loki licked his lips. Still mostly numb. That was good. Everything remained red except the surrounding skin, white as the bone peeking through. No sign of poison, whatever the numbing venom was. No infection yet, but he doubted that monster’s mouth was sanitary. 

With every pump of his heart, more blood flowed into the snow. It mingled with the creature’s, turning into a sick magenta. Not enough blood to slow him down, but more blood than Loki liked.

“Thor,” he said, and his voice sounded far away, “tear off a part of your cloak, please.”

For once, Thor did as bid, and Loki heard cloth shredding behind him. Loki examined the snow and found what wasn’t blood-drenched to be clean enough. When he used the snow to clean the edges of the wound, it stung, but little else. He pushed magic toward the wound, but healing had never been his strength. Still, he persisted until at last the glimpse of white bone faded. Then Thor’s cloak, red as his shredded ankle, flashed by his face. 

“Here, Brother.” Thor’s girth pressed against his back, supporting him. Loki resisted the urge to lean into him. This entire situation was pathetic enough without him doing that. Barely an hour in this wretched realm and he was sitting in a hole, maimed by a creature the size of his boot. He didn’t look at Thor as he wrapped his ankle, didn’t want to see how his glorious brother looked at most  _ damp _ .

Loki just finished tying up the wound when he paused, fingers trailing over cold skin. He leaned over and peered at the flesh between the bright red of Thor’s cloak and the black of his own pants. 

His skin was blue.

Perhaps he had been wrong about the monster’s venom after all.

Thor’s hand tightened on his shoulder. Apparently, his brother had seen it, too. “Brother, what is this? Is this that creature’s sorcery?”

Loki swallowed back bile. The icy blue looked  _ wrong _ beside Thor’s bright red cloak. “I...I do not know.”

Whatever it was in the poison which numbed the wound, it was beginning to wear off. Loki grimaced and looked down. The blue skin didn’t feel any different from the white. He wasn’t sure how far it went thanks to his clothing. What did the poison do? The pain grew in increments, deep in the bone and lacing outward, but there was no unusual burn or sensation. Just agony, growing stronger by the second. Just the numbing sensation fading away. Loki hissed between his teeth.

“Can your magic heal it? Is it harmful?” Thor’s hands rubbed his biceps even as he peered at the wound, like he could see something Loki couldn’t. He felt too hot against Loki’s back, too big and too much.

“ _ I don’t know. _ ” Loki licked his lips and wanted to call for Heimdall. He wanted to go home. The blue was probably part of the numbing venom, but the blue skin looked  _ wrong _ ,  _ dead _ , and it terrified him on some deep level. 

It was that same terror which kept him from asking to go home. Fleeing from some minor injuries? Some minor magics? The shame would be unimaginable. Already they called him cowardly and weak. 

One look at Thor’s face said enough: he looked worried but  _ hopeful _ , like maybe Loki could heal it up and then they could be off again. “Can you --”

“I already told you that I don’t know,” Loki snapped. Thor squeezed his shoulders; Loki smacked his hands away. “Just...give me time to look at it.”

Thor scowled but at least he stopped pawing at Loki. Loki took the moment to wiggle his toes. Pain flared from toes to knee, but he  _ could _ move his toes and the pain, while awful, was predictable. No sign of any other symptoms beyond the blueness. 

Thor huffed, the sound too loud beside Loki’s ear. “It’s odd but it looks like a small thing. You can handle this.”

There was nothing but confidence in Thor’s voice and nothing but fear in Loki’s heart. If Loki couldn’t heal it, if Loki had to see the Healers… Loki could see it now: the Allfather’s dark scowl, lecturing Loki on  _ his _ misuse of his magic rather than Thor’s eagerness to help misuse it, scolding Loki on his use of  _ tricks _ and how all would notice that it was  _ Loki _ injured and not  _ Thor _ .  _ Loki _ would get in trouble for this because it was  _ his _ spells they used while Thor laughed with his friends about how  _ weak Loki  _ was wounded in a hole in the ground.

No. Loki shook his head. He  _ refused _ .

He shoved Thor away and pushed himself to his feet. His right ankle gave instantly, and it was only Thor which kept Loki from falling again. Loki pressed both hands against Thor’s chest and shoved before Thor could get a good grip. It took a moment but he figured out how to balance by putting most of his weight on his left foot.

Thor watched him, frowning. Frowning because Loki was hurt or because this was delaying Thor’s games? Easy question. It wasn’t even a major injury. Loki looked down. The bleeding had slowed, even as he stood in stained snow: red and violet and magenta.

A strand of hair fell between Loki’s eyes, slick and damp with snow. With a huff, Loki swept his hair back with both hands, using a touch of magic to put it back in place. His ankle was beginning to throb now, lightning strikes of pain shooting up his foot. No matter. He had this.

“Use Mjolnir to get us out of this damned hole,” Loki said. “When we get to the surface, I can check out my ankle while you get back to your hunting.”

Thor hesitated, studying him. Loki lifted his chin. Perhaps instead of a shadow he saw a dead weight. Loki refused. He  _ refused _ .

“You will be well,” Thor said, voice growing strong and arrogant again. Willing his words to be reality. “‘Tis just a small wound.” His face lit up, smile bright and brilliant. “When you can heal it, we can hunt Frost Giants together!”

He smiled in Loki’s direction but it was like he saw past him, looking at their hunt instead of at Loki himself. Already looking forward, already looking away, with Loki trailing helplessly behind.

_ Look at me! _ Loki wanted to scream. Thor’s idiot friends weren’t there and it didn’t matter: Thor didn’t see him. Thor didn’t see a damned thing. What did he need to do to make Thor  _ look at him _ ? 

His spiraling thoughts distracted him from Thor calling Mjolnir. Too late did Loki catch the familiar twitch of Thor’s fingers. Loki’s eyes widened. “Thor,  _ wait _ \--”

The snow around them rumbled as Mjolnir broke free and slammed into Thor’s hand. Before either of them had time to move, the snow fell in around them.

The cold didn’t bother Loki, but being buried under feet of snow did. This time he kept his mouth shut and free of snow as he clambered upward. His right ankle ached with each wiggle and kick as he fought his way free. Fortunately, the snow hadn’t knocked him down, so he knew he was progressing in the right direction.

By the time he fought free, his ankle was less aching and more screaming in agony. Despite the cold he was drenched in sweat. Nausea settled deep and sickly in his belly. For a moment, Loki rested on the snow, shivering and feeling pain lance up his leg.

He needed to get home and to his chambers. He needed the wound clean and held up while he examined it. He needed to get off this forsaken world.

He needed to find Thor.

Loki groaned and pushed himself up on his hands, keeping his lower body still. Still in the hole, he observed, just higher up than before. The sky was closer but darker: not good. Around him, the snow looked more blue than white, clean and untouched beyond his own mess, with no sign of Thor. Red and violet speckled the snow, with one wet bruise of a trail showing Loki’s path.

His gloves had been torn off in his desperate clamber through the snow. Loki paused and stared at them.

His hands were blue.

Not good, not good, but honestly not the worst he had ever faced. Loki breathed in sharply and watched his slender fingers tremble. Surely he had faced worse traveling with Thor and his pack of idiots.

Thor. Right. He needed to find Thor.

Loki sat up and rubbed his hands together. His hands didn’t feel right, edges embedded in his flesh. He swallowed and looked around. He needed to find his big brother. Some part of him insisted that if he found Thor, Big Brother could help, make things okay, despite the fact that in the last two centuries it had always been Loki helping Thor, Loki getting him and his group of idiots out of trouble. Loki still wanted his solid warmth right then.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long. The snow beside him shifted and shuddered, and then a large, cold-reddened hand burst free. It scrambled for a grip, and like that was all Thor needed, the rest of him emerged like a gold and red beast. Loki ducked his head to avoid the flying snow.

“That was fun!” Thor said cheerfully, and Loki wanted to hit him. Thor shook his head like a dog, sending  _ cold wet  _ flying. Sputtering, Loki held a protective arm up. Thor grinned at him long enough to actually  _ see  _ him, and then the smile fell like his damned hammer. “Loki, your  _ face _ \--”

Loki’s heart clenched tight and cold. The pain in his ankle grew distant as he fumbled with his magic, turning the snow before him into a mirror. 

His face was blue.

Loki choked on a scream.

It looked like someone laid a filthy  _ Frost Giant’s _ face over his own, familiar moonlit skin replaced by  _ Frost Giant _ blue (now he recognized the shade now that it was on his own face, now he recognized it) and there were white lines on his face right out of Loki’s books. His hands trembled as he traced them. They looked familiar but he couldn’t pinpoint them. 

He was blue like a fucking  _ monster _ .

“You can fix this, right, Loki?” Thor asked, and the false cheer did nothing to hide the slight shake in his voice. Loki didn’t look at him. If Thor looked scared, then… No. Thor wasn’t allowed to look scared. Not Thor.

Loki swallowed and he didn’t  _ feel _ different. Nothing felt different. Even the pain in his ankle felt like one would expect. His bottom lip trembled and the lip in the mirror did the same. The lines looked like scars.

“This will be noticeable as soon as we return home,” Thor continued.

Loki licked his lips. Even his tongue looked odd, alien. “You’re not helping, Brother.”

He didn’t know of any sorcery that did this but didn’t look much into Jotunheim monsters. Who wasted time with Jotunheim when there were so many other interesting places to explore?

Loki traced the lines over his face over and over, and his nails were black like a bloated corpse’s. Horror swelled in him, dark and thick, and the not-Loki in the mirror began to shake. Red eyes -- monstrous and bloody -- blinked and blinked and he had seen those eyes in his nightmares since he was a child. Loki moaned and those corpse fingernails dug in.

Then Thor’s big hands pulled his hands down and away. Violet blood flecked the snow. Loki whimpered.  _ His _ blood. It was  _ under his skin _ .

“It’s okay, Brother,” Thor whispered, and his big brother’s arms wrapped tight around him. Loki moaned and Thor rocked him slightly, and it was just like when he would have a nightmare about those red eyes and would crawl into Thor’s bed and his big brother made the nightmares go away. “It’ll be okay. You can fix this easily. That creature’s curse is no match against a Prince of Asgard.”

Loki shuddered and the reflection blurred. A curse. Just a curse. What else could it be? Of course it was just a curse, maybe done when he stabbed that little monster. He turned away from the mirror and stared at his brother’s shoulder. He was Loki, Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies. He wasn’t going to be undone by some ridiculous curse.

He was also the intelligence between the two of them. He took a steadying breath. “Let me...let me just look at it.”

Thor nodded but Loki saw the edge of his smile waver.  _ For all his words, he doesn’t trust me _ . Thor leaned back but kept his hands on Loki’s arms, thumbs rubbing. There wasn’t enough gold in Asgard to get Loki to admit how reassuring it felt. “I’ll keep a lookout while you perform your spells.” Even without looking directly at Thor, Loki could feel him light up, like the sun had come out. “Once you recover, we can hunt Frost Giants!”

Loki scowled and shoved Thor away again. There was his lout of a brother. “Just keep an eye out.” 

His ankle throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and there was something soothing about it. Monsters didn’t hurt. They bled and died. The only pain they knew was the pain they inflicted on others. He didn’t  _ feel _ different so perhaps the curse, or whatever it was, only went so far. If so, a mage of Loki’s caliber should easily be able to disperse it.

If his hands still shook when he banished that damned mirror, he was injured on arguably the worst realm in all of the Nine Realms. Not even Thor laughed at him, only smiled encouragingly as Loki centered himself. Loki carefully didn’t look at the violet splatters in the snow.

Find the root of the curse, deal with it, and then find a way to deal with his mangled ankle. Sometime during that mess, keep Thor from getting them both killed. Just like any other adventure.

Loki breathed and focused. The first skill for any magus was learning their own body, their own self. A person’s magic was simply an extension of themself and their place in Yggdrasil. Frigga taught him that, her warm hands holding his as she taught him how to find his center. Once one knew themselves, they could reach out into the beyond.

For all of Loki’s power, it had never been his best skill. It always seemed like he grasped at shadows, like even at the center of his strongest gift he couldn’t escape them. His sense of self always seemed illusionary at best, so rather than tell Frigga and see  _ that look _ again, of some odd pain she always refused to share, Loki focused his skills there: on illusions and whispers and shades. It worked, granting him skills few other mages knew, such as how to easily traverse between the realms and, most recently, how to escape even Heimdall’s sight.

None of which helped him now. He searched but found nothing foreign within him: no foreign magic or element, not even a hint of poison. If anything, things seemed  _ clearer _ , like --

No.

Loki’s eyes snapped open. His hands, his damned blue hands, wavered in front of him, corpse black nails sharp like claws and fine white lines scarring the flesh. They shook and shook and Loki couldn’t stop staring at them for a long moment. Even with his magic, all he saw were two damned blue hands.

“Brother, did you…”

Thor’s voice faded in and out, like it was coming through a tunnel. Loki swallowed and focused, and blue hands faded into white again. Thor cheered beside him but it came as if from a great distance. With little effort, the skin turned blue again, then back to white. Simple as shapeshifting.

He shouldn’t be able to do that if the blue skin was caused by external forces.

His hands kept shaking and Loki couldn’t  _ think _ . 

He looked again. This was  _ Jotunheim _ . Who knew what barbaric poisons they had here? Nothing happened until that creature bit him. He reached down and held his hand over his ankle, and now the regularity of the pain was not a blessing but a taunt.  _ Nothing odd here, nothing odd here _ . The wound was healing, slowly but surely. Traces of the numbing venom remained but did not extend past his ankle. The venom itself was unknown to Loki, but that made sense: this realm had been forbidden since…

Thor’s voice rose beside him but Loki could barely hear him over his own panting breaths and thundering heartbeat. With a jerk of his hand, the mirror returned in the snow. He looked at that monstrous face again and traced those odd scars with his corpse black fingernails again.

He recognized those lines now. He had only seen them in his books, but he recognized them.

They were of Laufey’s line.

The pieces were coming together quickly, too quickly. With a shriek, Loki shattered the mirror but those red eyes seemed to remain, watching him, mocking him. So many pieces but too many missing and Loki couldn’t bring himself to put them together and he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“Loki, enough!” Thor shouted. His hands settled like manacles around Loki’s biceps and he shook him once, hard, and everything fell silent. Loki stared at Thor, chest aching, throat sore. He was shaking, he recognized that, but that knowledge was as distant as the sky. “Brother, what are you --”

An ice spear struck the snow to their right. Thor wrapped one arm tightly around Loki and summoned Mjolnir with his free hand. Together, they looked up.

A handful of Frost Giants peered over the rim of the hole, red eyes bright and cold.  _ How long had they been there? _ Loki thought, feeling dizzy.  _ What had they seen? _

Why weren’t they killing him and Thor?

They looked monstrous, barbaric, and the longer Loki looked at them, the harder it was to breathe. He was blue and scarred but he didn’t look like that.  _ He didn’t look like them _ . There  _ had _ to be something else, had to be something else missing.

Perhaps he was just dreaming. Another nightmare of Frost Giants under his bed. He would wake up and go to Thor and Thor would laugh at him but also whisper tales of Odin and Bor and everything would be all right.

Then Thor spoke up and shattered the illusion ( _ illusions, illusions, one of his greatest tricks _ ). He pointed Mjolnir at the Frost Giants and lightning flashed in his eyes. “You! Is this your doing?”

As the Frost Giants murmured amongst themselves, Loki allowed hope to burn in his chest. Just maybe…

“No trick of ours, Thunderer.” The Frost Giant’s voice rumbled like a rockslide, taking that spark of hope with it. The creature’’s gaze burned into Loki. “The only trick I see is a Jotunn half-breed wearing Aesir skin.”

No. Loki began shaking his head, a scream building in his throat. No. No. He was Loki, Prince of Asgard, Son of Odin, Son of Frigga, Brother of Thor. 

“You  _ dare _ speak to a Son of Odin in such a manner?”

Lightning crackled under Thor’s skin, sparking against Loki. Loki blinked and the world blurred blue and white. Loki breathed and tasted ozone.

More Frost Giants gathered around the edges of the hole, too many red eyes staring down at them. Before Loki turned his head, he knew what he would see: Thor grinning, bloodlust in his own eyes, a berserker's fierce glee rising.

Halfbreed, the Frost Giant said.

With a jerk of his hand, Loki yanked away the enchantment blinding them from Heimdall’s gaze. Thor’s arm tightened around him and his lightning streaked over Loki’s armor, over his flesh. Unable to look at anyone anymore, Loki threw back his head and screamed, “Heimdall, the Bifrost!”

Thor roared in frustration beside him, but quicker than Loki expected, the Bifrost’s bright light flooded the area. The last thing he saw was the face of the Frost Giant he spoke, rocky face rounder but marks identical to Laufey’s.

Then the Bifrost flared and they were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings in the tags come into effect this chapter.

As usual, Thor found Loki in the library.

If Loki wanted to hide, Thor couldn’t find him. Loki excelled at hiding, at finding shadows and in-between places, even without using his magic. Sometimes Thor grew furious and went to Heimdall, but Heimdall refused to get mixed into their affairs. If Thor found Loki, Loki wanted to be found, wanted to be seen and to show. The library had such interesting things and he wanted to show them to his brother.

Thor almost always disagreed but  _ this time _ Loki found something even Thor would like.

“Loki!” Thor shouted, like Loki wasn’t  _ five feet away _ , and Loki shushed him. The Norns themselves seemed pleased with Loki that day, because not only did Thor quiet but he joined Loki looking at his book. The picture on the page kept the other boy quiet, blue eyes wide with awe.

Grinning, Loki turned back to the page. “That’s Laufey, King of the Frost Giants,” Loki whispered. He traced the monster’s face with his finger. Laufey glared out from the page. “This book was made soon after the war with them. Look at his face!”

Thor grinned back and squeezed into the chair beside Loki. In several more years, they wouldn’t be able to fit, but Loki thought his stubborn brother would keep trying, anyway. “He looks hideous,” Thor said, voice hushed but still too loud. Knowing him, that was as quiet as his brother was going to get. He pointed at the white lines on Laufey’s face. “General Tyr says they carve up their young and they have scars all over their bodies. He says whichever children don’t survive get eaten!”

Loki shuddered. General Tyr loved telling stories of the war, especially when he drank too much mead. Whichever stories Mother bade Loki too young to hear, Thor would find out and share with him later. 

Thor poked at the monster’s red eyes. “What color do you think they bleed, anyway? Do they bleed at all?”

They did, but Loki couldn’t remember the color. He started flipping the page to find out, but Thor’s finger stopped him, still poking Laufey’s face. “I’ll find out one day,” Thor said matter-of-factly. “When I’m older, I’m going to hunt them just like Father and General Tyr did.” Thor turned to Loki and grinned, bright as the sun. “I’ll kill them all.”

_ I’ll kill them all _ .

_ I’ll kill them all. _

_ I’ll kill them all. _

The words clanged inside Loki’s head like bells as they landed on the Bifrost. Thor’s arm was still wrapped around him, and it tightened painfully as Thor turned to him. Those laughing blue eyes were dark with rage. Against his will, Loki flinched back. “Why did you call for Heimdall? We had them right where we wanted them! We could have killed them, Brother!”

_ Killed them. _

_ Killed them all. _

“I --” Loki  _ felt _ Heimdall watching them, knew if he turned his head that he would see the Watcher’s unblinking golden gaze upon them. Did he know?  _ What _ did he know? He refused to turn and look. He stared at Thor, but Thor’s rage helped nothing. “I was  _ thinking _ , Thor, because at least one of us had to!”

Lie.

“You think too much!” Thor snapped and at least he pulled himself away, leaving Loki on the ground. Laughter coiled bitter and wild in the back of Loki’s throat. “I had them exactly where I wanted them! Wasn’t that what we wanted? Why we went down there?”

_ No, Thor. That was what  _ **_you_ ** _ wanted, why  _ **_you_ ** _ went down there. _ But Thor always did mix up things like that.

Thor paced like an angry beast on the Bifrost, leaving Loki still sprawled, and he felt Heimdall’s eyes and  _ why wouldn’t the bastard look away? _ The laughter rose like poison in his mouth, but what came out was dry and sardonic. “Of course, Brother,”  _ lie _ “but mayhap you forgot…?” Loki raised his bloody ankle and wiggled it for emphasis. It hurt but right then the hurt was good, real like nothing else could be.

Thor scoffed and waved his hand in the air, like swatting a bug. “Even your tricks could have killed some of those simple minded beasts, Brother. Stop making excuses.”

Loki bit his tongue hard and instantly tasted copper. All he could wonder was what color it was.

“Excuses, Thor?”

Loki froze. Thor spun, his rage finding a new target.

Odin walked toward them, Gungnir tapping the Bifrost with each step. His face was hard but his one eye fixed on Thor, dark with fury. That fury matched Thor’s, matching thunder for thunder, and Loki looked for anything of himself in that face. Anyone, especially now, could find Thor, but Loki?

What about Loki?

Both Odin and Thor ignored Loki, fixed on each other. Loki expected Thor to look away, for his rage to turn begrudging and sullen, but the fight stolen from him still heated his blood. One look at Heimdall showed he wasn’t about to interfere. Loki stopped biting his tongue to bite his lower lip and he wobbled to his feet.

With every year, Thor grew more headstrong and reckless, but was he truly going to fight  _ Odin? _

“Brother --” he started.

Those lightning-blasted eyes snapped toward Loki. “Be  _ quiet _ .”

Shock more than obedience stilled Loki’s tongue. The exchange did turn Odin’s attention to Loki, but there was no softening in Odin’s gaze as he looked Loki over. His mouth twisted. “Take your brother to the healers. We will discuss this later.”

Without another word, Odin turned on his heel and walked away. Not a word to Loki. Nothing to Loki. Loki stared after him, shattered. He wanted to yell for Odin, but he knew Odin wouldn’t turn around.

Not for Loki.

Thor snarled. He reached for Loki but barely looked at him, gaze focused on Odin’s back. “I could have done it,” Thor said, bitter as a cherry’s pit. “I could have finished what he started.”

_ Halfbreed _ .

Loki shivered, and Thor frowned. “At ease, Brother. The healers will help you soon.”

Somehow, Loki greatly doubted that.

xoxoxo

To Loki’s surprise, Thor stayed the entire time Eir healed his ankle. To his relief, Thor focused too much on pacing and grumbling about Odin to notice when Eir declared she saw no sign of poisoning or other effects: only a simple bite. Unfortunately, with Thor there, Loki was limited in how he could ask for more details.

Would Eir even have any to provide? Or would his questions give him away? Loki’s supposed silver tongue felt like lead.

_ Did she know? _

Before Loki could take more than a few steps on his healed ankle, they were summoned. Of course Odin wouldn’t give Loki a chance to catch his breath or for Thor to calm down. Thor’s eyes lit up at the summons, and Loki could barely keep up with his brother as Thor charged down the halls.

Brother? He kept calling Thor that, even in his head, but…

_ Halfbreed _ .

Loki’s tongue remained still and silent as they walked, but his mind raced in desperate circles. Thor filled the air with enough words for both of them. 

“--if he could just send us down, I can show him --”

Loki ignored him. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew his role. Calm down Thor before he did anything stupid. Except...

He had Laufey’s markings on his face.

Odin chose the more private chambers close to his and the queen’s rooms and his study. Formal but not a public dressing down before the entire court, Loki noted absently, rubbing his hands together. He just needed to wait out Thor’s rage and then he could ask...he could ask…

Thor turned to Loki with a bright grin before they were announced, bloodlust twisting his fair features. One way or another, the fool would get his battle, and he knew it. He no longer looked angry at Loki, but why should he? He had a new target. Loki was firmly back in his place. All would forever be well in the Thunderer’s world.

Then the doors opened and the first thing Loki saw was Frigga’s worried face.

Frigga, who defied Odin to teach him magic and fighting techniques better suited to his lithe form. Frigga, who taught him of the branches of Yggdrasil. Frigga, who taught him that all things -- all  _ people _ \-- had a place.

Loki didn’t know if he wanted to throw himself into her arms or start screaming. Instead, he followed, insides writhing, at Thor’s heels. Trapped even now in his shadow as Thor strode forward.

Loki’s hands shook. He clasped them tightly together.

Frigga and Odin both sat at the table where they broke their fast just that morning. Einherjar stood outside the doors, giving an illusion of privacy. Frigga wore the same golden gown Loki had complimented, and Frigga teased him, calling him a flatterer.

Now she sat, pale and with her own hands tangled in her lap. She jerked once, as if to rise, but settled when Odin shook his head. She looked them both over, and only then did Loki realize he wore the same torn pants and filthy tunic from Jotunheim.

His gloves were still on Jotunheim.

Loki exhaled and bowed, but Thor charged forward. “Father --”

Odin scowled at him. He rose, and Frigga’s mouth tightened. “You broke a centuries’ old treaty. Explain yourself.”

Loki remained quiet. Odin never looked at him. He and Thor only had glares for each other. Loki looked at Frigga.

“A  _ foolish _ treaty --”

Loki examined her face, beautiful and regal even while lined with worry. 

“-- must be  _ peace _ \--”

He took in her golden curls, done in intricate braids. Loki always liked her hair. She let him brush it and braid it and sang sweet songs as he did so. Hair as golden as Asgard, as Thor’s own mess.

“--  _ pride! _ The other realms see us age --”

Golden skin, beautiful eyes… Loki recognized himself in her mannerisms but not in appearance.

“You are to be  _ king _ \--”

Loki closed his eyes and clenched his hands so tightly together they hurt.

“Yes, and the Nine Realms will know --”

Loki swallowed and there were so many pieces, so many horrific pieces, all tumbling together. How could he have been so blind.

“-- protect Asgard when you can’t even protect your brother!”

“Loki’s fine! Eir healed him quickly, and he took care of the blue curse himself!”

The room quieted, all air sucked from it. Loki opened his eyes and looked at Frigga’s face and  _ knew _ . Frigga stood, hands stretched out to him. “Loki --”

There was ice shattering in his chest, too many cold shards piercing his insides. Loki stepped back from her. Her grief-stricken face twisted those shards like so many knives. 

At last, Odin looked at him. Loki looked back, unable to look at his mother’s...at Frigga’s face anymore. Thor, ridiculous Thor, looked confused, unsure why the battle had stopped.

“What am I?” he asked, and the question seemed too loud, too stark. Too real. Like if he kept quiet it all could have been swept away.

To Odin’s credit, he didn’t hesitate. “Our son.”

Sweet. An evasion, but a sweet one. In its own way, proof. Odin blurred in front of him.

“What more than that?” Loki rasped. He sensed Frigga moving closer, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. 

“That is the most important thing, darling, above all else,” Frigga implored, and Loki began to shake. She kept this from him.  _ She kept this from him. _

“What is this?” Thor asked, and the oaf sounded so  _ bewildered _ . Idiot, unable to figure out  _ anything _ , even with this unfolding before him.

“The Frost Giants called me  _ half breed _ ,” Loki spat and he glared at Odin, refused to look away from Odin. The bastard looked calm. Of course he did. It wasn’t  _ his _ world being torn apart. “I looked… I saw…” Loki was shaking and he couldn’t stop himself. Frigga was reaching for him and if she touched him, he would shake apart. “I saw my face.  _ I saw the markings on my face. _ ”

Odin looked grim but steady. “At the end of the war on Jotunheim, I went into the Temple, and I found a baby. Small for a giant's offspring -- abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son.”

Frigga almost touched his arm. Loki back away. He reached up and grabbed his hair, digging his nails into his scalp. “ _ Our _ son. You have been our child ever since Odin brought you home, Loki.”

Still backing away, Loki barely heard her. “Laufey’s son,” he echoed.

“Stop this!” Thor roared. “Enough! My brother is not some monster!”

He couldn’t bring himself to look at Frigga, but he could look at Thor. His bro--Thor’s face was flushed with rage, and he looked at the group like he was waiting for someone to provide a real explanation. 

_ Kill all the monsters _ .

Thor grinning at the Frost Giants, bloodlust in his eyes.

No.

He couldn’t look anymore.

Tears burned his eyes, and Loki heard Frigga sob as if somehow all of this hurt  _ her _ . He couldn’t deal with her right then. He glared at Odin. “You didn’t take some monster runt because you were feeling paternal,” he snarled. It was too easy to imagine Odin’s face with Thor’s bloodlust, the monsters’ bestial blood staining his clothes. “ _ Why? _ ”

The bastard remained quiet, just staring at him. 

“You were an innocent child, Loki,” Frigga said. She sounded like she was crying. “He brought you home and put you in my arms, and I knew then you were my son.”

Lies.

“No. No! My brother is  _ not _ \--”

Loki couldn’t bring himself to hear anymore. With a flare of green, he transported himself back to his room. Sealing the room and silencing everything was as simple as breathing. Barring the room from unwanted eyes took more effort, but it grew easier with each spell.

Then he began to scream.

_ Our son _ .

**_Lies._ **

Loki grabbed the nearest object -- a mug -- and threw it across the room. Only when it shattered did he recognize it: leftover tea from breakfast. He took it back to his room to finish it off before Thor dragged him to Jotunheim.

Thor. Always Thor. Thor leading, Thor  _ the future king  _ (he caught that, he caught Odin’s words), Thor the real son of Odin, and didn’t that make so much sense? Didn’t everything make so much sense now?

A history book on his desk. A gift from Frigga. With a shriek, that joined the mug. Candles: gifts from Thor.  _ For all your late night reading, Brother. _

Lies. Lies.  _ Lies _ .

How could a Frost Giant half breed ever compare to Thor? No wonder he could never match him. No wonder he could never be a good  _ fucking _ Aesir. Just a monster who should have died in the ice.

Monster. Even Thor called him a monster. One of the creatures whispered about in horror stories.  _ Thor _ whispered those horror stories.

_ They wait under your bed, Loki. _

_ General Tyr said they love the taste of Aesir flesh. _

_ They eat babies, Brother. _

No. Frost Giants didn’t  _ eat _ babies. They left them in the cold to die. 

With a howl, Loki swept everything off his desk ( _ gifts from FriggaOdinThor, marks of the royal house, all lies _ ). Pain flashed white-hot in his wrist, and he paused, panting. He stared at his empty desk, at his seal adorning the wood.

The Royal Seal of the House of Odin.

Prince Loki.

He choked on a sob and bowed his head. Prince Loki, son of Laufey,  _ monster _ . Never strong enough, never good enough, never worthy in Odin’s or Thor’s or  _ anyone’s _ eyes.

Something plopped on the wood. Loki blinked. Another plop. He looked down. He watched blood trail bright red down his wrist. It plopped in a growing puddle on his desk. A vivid line sliced above his wristbone. Breathing heavily through his nose, Loki glanced over to see a bloody knife among his scattered things.

A gift from Odin. Passive aggressive present since Loki refused to use  _ real _ weapons.

Loki looked back down at the growing puddle of blood. Bright red. No different than an Aesir’s. He looked at his hands. Paler than most Aesir’s but passable. He had centuries to prove that. Pale fingernails with a touch of healthy pink. So normal looking. Loki raised his arm and stared at the cut. Aesir in appearance even under the skin.

A full shapeshift. Not a true Aesir but at least he could pass for one.

Trembling, Loki stumbled away from the desk toward the knife. The blood on it was vibrant, still wet. 

Thor smiled when Odin gave Loki the knife. He didn’t get it. He thought it was a real present. 

Thor thought Loki was his real brother.

His hand shook like a boy’s when he reached for the knife. His fingers wrapped around Odin’s sigil. Loki took a deep breath, and everything steadied.

Then he raised the knife and sliced it across his wrist. Again and again. Blood, red blood, Aesir passing blood, splashed onto the floor.

“More than skin deep,” he whispered. “Not wrong. I’m not like them. I’m not like them.”

And he sliced again. And again. And again. Up the arm, to the elbow, nice and neat.

“A sacrifice to myself,” he said, and Aesir-red blood sanctified his room.

xoxoxox

Loki sat on the shredded, bloodied ruins of his bed and stared at his room. “I need to clean this,” he said aloud, and his voice sounded normal enough. A little rough but that was alright. Some water, maybe tea with honey, and no one would be able to tell anything was amiss. His right arm was a bloody mess but he never cut deep. Nothing but gore from wrist to elbow but nothing beyond his abilities. He could fix that on his own without a healer. 

The room was a mess. He needed it clean it before anyone saw. 

Thor… Loki stared at the bloodstains on the carpet. Odin would keep up the pretense. He had for this long. Frigga… Loki’s breath caught. No. Thor. Odin was simple enough. He took Loki for a reason. What that reason was, Loki wasn’t sure, but Odin took him and  _ kept _ him, raised him as a prince, if only in name. He needed to find out why, needed to keep himself valuable. He needed to prove that he was loyal to Asgard and her people. 

As for Thor, he needed to make sure Thor didn’t kill him. 

Loki’s fragile calm wavered. He dug his nails the slices on his arm and watched the blood flow, vivid and fresh. Red. He swallowed.

Thor didn’t want to believe it. He looked at Loki and saw his shadow. He didn’t see a monster. At least, he hadn’t last time Loki saw him. For centuries, Thor had been his brother, his  _ big _ brother, the one who worked with him to sneak goods from the kitchen. Surely some of that mattered.

Loki dug his nails deeper, feeling the heat flow over his fingers. Heat was good. Natural.

He needed to find Thor. He needed to prove himself to Thor. Not as brothers, no. Odin’s lie was broken. Fortunately, Thor always believed his own version of reality. Loki was his loyal shadow. That was the reality Thor needed to believe.

Thor would never call him “brother” again, but Loki could keep him from calling him “monster.”

His blood dripped onto his pants. Loki frowned. At least these pants were already ruined.

He needed to clean up, make everything look normal again. Clean himself, clean the room. All manageable.

“I am Loki,” he said aloud, testing. He sounded calm, rational. He nodded. He needed to be in control before he could get everything  _ else _ under control. This was manageable. Everything was manageable.

When Loki stood, more blood splashed onto his carpet. He frowned. First deal with that, then he could start with the rest.

He gave himself time to look at the red soaking into the carpet. Red, like an Aesir. He just had to convince Thor of that, too. And Odin. And…

His blood was as red as theirs. He just needed to prove it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more fics, info, and Loki, check me out on [tumblr](http://tirsynni.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

For years Thor and Loki shared a room before Odin bid them too old and ordered new chambers for them. He split the rooms, and at first Loki was pleased: his chambers were much closer to the library than his room with Thor. Then he learned one of his most valuable lessons:

Everything Odin did, he did for a reason.

Clean and calm, Loki walked out of his chambers, into the hall, and stared. He stared and felt the hate rise so swiftly in his heart that it took his breath away. It burned through him like a wildfire and destroyed his hard-won peace.

In front of Thor’s chambers, there was nothing: a stone wall, glossy and solid, shimmering with magic Thor’s blind eyes couldn’t see. The tapestry hanging beside the door blazed with his colors. 

Outside Loki’s chambers, a statue of Odin loomed, one of the few in the realm featuring two eyes: two eyes to stare at Loki, to judge him, every time he left his chambers.

_ Everything Odin did, he did for a reason. _

Loki clenched his fists, and his right forearm twinged with pain. Odin, the Gallows God, always staring down in judgment at the Jotunn runt, the filthy halfbreed he picked up from the snow and ice. Always watching him, always making sure he  _ knew _ that he was being watched, that he  _ needed _ watched, that he was  _ lesser _ . For so long Loki tried to convince himself that it was nothing, that the statue just happened to be there, but year after year of Odin’s cold appraisal stripped those lies from him. 

Loki thought he understood the strength of Odin’s judgment. What a fool he had been.

_ Why did you take me? Why did you not dash my head on the rocks? _

Exhaling, Loki shook off the chill in his bones and tried not to imagine violet blood splashed on snow. 

Now those eyes no longer simply judged him: they  _ reminded _ him. He lived and breathed by the decree of the royalty family alone. Jotunn weren’t  _ people _ . They were nothing but filthy beasts. If Thor lost his temper and killed him, there would be few, if any, repercussions. By the Norns, if his old tutors spoke truly, Loki wasn’t even welcome in --

Loki rubbed his hands together and finally looked away from that thrice-damned statue. There was no use dwelling on any of this. This gave truth and weight to his past, not secured his future. It didn’t offer him a place, didn’t change the shattered remnants of his identity, did nothing but distract his already flustered mind.

He turned away, only to pause when he felt something hot and wet on his hands. Loki looked down. 

Red coated his hands.

What…?

Loki raised his hands and stared. Blood pooled in his right palm and slicked his wrist. Frowning, he willed it away. Green sparked and the red shimmered and faded. No visible sign of it now, although he still felt the stickiness of it like he rubbed his hand against sap. His fingers twitched involuntarily as he lifted up his sleeve and looked at his forearm.

His wounds had opened again.

Healing magic wasn’t his best skill, but he practiced enough in the field that he could heal such minor scratches as these. The wounds should be closed.

Of course, Loki rationalized, he was stressed. Of course he was. Not even he could expect his magic to be at its best. He rubbed his hands and felt the slight cling, like blood lingered on his fingers. Understandable but unacceptable. Too obvious, even for an oaf like Thor.

His fingers shook. Loki clasped them tighter together. 

Unacceptable.

Loki returned to his rooms, feeling Odin’s stare against his back. Even when he closed the door behind him, he felt that stare, piercing him, always knowing what he was. 

This time, Loki used physical equipment to accompany his magical healing. When he washed the blood away with water, the wounds looked ragged, like a beast had savaged his arm. Loki pushed the thought from his mind and focused instead on healing the sliced skin. At the same time, he wrapped his arm in silk, binding the wound and hopefully keeping it from bleeding through. Thanks to his adventures with Thor, he had plenty of experience with this.

Thor.

Pain flashed through his arm, and Loki hissed through his teeth. Carefully, deliberately, he loosened the silk on his arm and tried wrapping it again. It didn’t matter that he would probably never have such adventures again. He never enjoyed them. They were tiresome, dirty things, and he had to deal with Thor’s obnoxious friends --

Loki exhaled and finished wrapping his arm. He then focused on redressing himself, eyeing himself in the mirror as he did so. First, Loki needed to survive. He would worry about everything else later.

In the mirror, Loki looked like a wraith but not a monster, perhaps even a sickly Aesir. Pale but not  _ blue _ . His glamour worked enough to hide the dark circles under his eyes. His eyes themselves were green and clear, an atypical color for an Aesir but otherwise not unusual. His clothes flowed neatly over him, and there was something funny about how he always prided himself on his appearance. He remembered teasing Thor in the past about how he needed to look like a prince and not some barbarian.

Loki’s lips quirked, and his eyes gleamed like shattered glass. Of course he looked like a prince. He was a prince of  _ two _ lands.

Enough. Loki pressed his hands on his tunic, ensuring everything laid as it should. Enough stalling. He needed to find Thor.

This time when he left, Loki didn’t look at Odin’s statue.

It didn’t matter. As soon as he dropped his magic to let Heimdall see him, he felt not one gaze but three: Heimdall and Odin’s damned ravens. They watched him as he reached out with his magic to find Thor. They watched him walk through the halls he had believed his own just one sunrise ago. 

What did they see when they looked at him?  _ What did they see? _

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. Thor first. Thor was the threat.

At first, Loki feared that Thor would seek solace with his friends, even if the fool remained forever ignorant about the solace Sif sought to offer. He needed Thor alone, without his friends and their bolstering. Fortunately, the familiar lightning flare which was Thor’s magic led Loki to Thor’s chambers. He passed several guards on the way, as well as two servants, but none looked at him oddly. They all bowed and the servant Sila smiled at him, Loki automatically smiling back, and none looked at him like he was a monster. None flinched away, none drew a weapon. Thus far, his secret remained just that. Also, all walked peacefully, none fleeing from Thor’s direction. His secret remained kept and Thor remained at least somewhat quiet.

Excellent. He could work with all of that.

Except Loki didn’t expect the rage to sear his icy heart when he stood outside Thor’s chambers and saw the empty wall. No statue for Thor. No piercing stare for Thor. Not Thor, the perfect Aesir prince.

Loki stood outside Thor’s door and had to breathe through the seething hate. Idiotic, careless, arrogant,  _ perfect _ Thor who would be King.

Who would be King.

Loki exhaled, tasting ash, and thought of Odin and his past words to them both, how he promised them both the chance to be King. He thought of Thor’s carelessness and his haughtiness and his multiple dismissals of Loki, ensuring Loki knew his  _ place _ . Odin ensuring Loki knew his  _ place _ .

His hatred coiled inside him, twisting snakes writhing together, plan after plan flickering and beginning to burn.

Loki knew what he had to do.

Squeezing his hands together one last time, Loki forced himself to relax, shoulders loose and face calm. None of the rising madness in his heart reflected on his face as he turned to Thor’s door. His calm face was the last of him Odin’s ravens saw before he vanished himself from his and Heimdall’s sight. This conversation was for him and Thor alone.

_ “When I'm king, I'll hunt the monsters down and slay them all!” _

Loki arranged his features so he looked stressed and frightened and knocked on the door.

He felt Thor beyond the door, pure energy rumbling, forever a storm. Even as Loki tried not to worry about that storm being directed at him, something inside him answered, like the shattered mirror inside him constantly reflected its energy against the broken shards. After a heartbeat and millenium, that storm approached the door.

In a physical battle, Loki stood no chance. Not against the Thunderer, against Asgard’s Champion. If Loki could catch Thor before he swung his hammer, the battle was his.

The door swung open. Terror flushed through his veins as he looked at Thor’s face. He expected hatred, disgust, and Loki braced for it.

(Loki tried to brace for it.)

Nowhere in his plans did he expect reddened eyes and a face warped by grief, too pale or too ruddy, lashes still shining with tears. Automatically, Loki stepped forward. “Brother?” he asked and cursed himself for it before the word left his lips. Loki Liesmith, and his lies ever fell from his tongue.

Thor swallowed and his hands rose toward Loki. Loki flinched, and Thor froze.

Good, good, so many tools to use, flinching was a tool, body language a skill of the Silvertongue, and the best lies contained some truth. “Brother,” Loki repeated, and that lie tasted foul, poison bubbling in his mouth. A variation from his original plan but still workable. He stared at Thor’s face, streaked with tears, and hatred rose from his fear. What right did this oaf have to grieve? How  _ dare _ he look so when he stood brighter than ever in the sun while Loki rot in the shadows, cold and destined to grow colder still if his wits proved not sharp enough?

“Are you well?” Loki asked, and he widened his eyes and bit his lower lip. Just a smidge with the eyes and the tips of his teeth. Vulnerable but not too much. Concerned but still fearful. “You look a fright.”

“Am I well?” Thor echoed, a hollowness in his voice Loki could not recall hearing before. Thor shook his head, and it was like watching a great beast shake off the rain. “I… I cannot…”

Not his original plan, but better. So much better. 

Loki reached out and touched Thor’s arm, comforting and testing. Instead of pulling away from the monster’s fingers, Thor leaned into him. “Let us talk in your rooms. The hall is no place for this.”

Thor smiled at him, shaky but sincere, and the hate roared in Loki. His fingers itched (his wound itched and stung and was it still bleeding?) but nothing showed on Loki’s face but his own small, worried smile. Thor stepped back to let him in, and Loki was careful to not touch him. Every inch of him felt frail, breakable. If he broke, the pieces would cut them both to nothing.

Thor walked beside him like an escort toward Thor’s bed. It felt too similar to them sitting on one of their beds as children, huddling close and whispering plans or one flopping on the other’s bed or just sitting and harassing the other until he awoke. It was easy to ignore the splintered mess of Thor’s table and chairs, the burnt, electric scent of lightning lingering in the air. An axe quivered where it hung from the far wall, buried at least two inches deep into the stone.

Loki rubbed his hands together. He glanced down once to make sure there was no sign of blood. Still clean.

As soon as they sat together, Thor leaned forward, face too earnest and voice too entreating. “Brother, I care not for their words or the Allfather’s mad utterances. You are my brother, if not in flesh than in soul, and to compare the clever Silvertongue to those foul beasts is nothing but madness.”

By will alone did Loki keep his rage from showing on his face. Trust his brother to be sweet in words and then foul in deed later. How often did Thor speak of the sons of Odin and then treat Loki like mere chattel later? It would be worse now, he knew. This offered an escape from the death Loki feared at Thor’s hands, but everything else? He spoke lovingly now but only because his slow mind had yet to catch up to the situation. Loki knew better than to trust.

Loki knew better now, he thought as he stared at Thor. Today he called him brother, but soon enough it would be  _ monster _ . How long until the Warriors Three and Lady Sif knew? How long until Thor’s supposed  _ love _ grew stale and he remembered Loki’s place?

Loki bit his lip again and looked away, because otherwise he would smile and the madness growing in him would show and all would be lost. “I don’t feel like a monster”  _ lie lie lie _ “but you heard the Allfather.”  _ Don’t speak of the Allmother don’t don’t. _ “He said --”

“Damn him!” Thor cried and grabbed Loki’s hands. Loki flinched but Thor didn’t let go, his massive paws swallowing Loki’s hands ( _ swallowing Loki _ ) and holding tight. “He is old and grows more feeble-minded with every passing century.”

Loki shook his head, the guise of advisor falling over him like a well-worn cloak. “What if he no longer recognizes them as beasts? To call them my kin with such ease, to scold you for traveling to lands which Asgard rightfully won…” Loki shuddered and let Thor feel it in his grip. “I fear for his plans of the future.”

So many clever words tangled on his tongue, buried in their hateful truths. It was fine. Loki didn’t need them. Thor needed little pushing.

Even now Thor’s eyes glittered, bloodlust overcoming worry and grief. “‘Tis true,” he agreed. “He called you that monster’s kin with too much ease. He compares a prince of Asgard, my clever little brother, to those creatures. One only need look at you to see there is no comparison. That he does so speaks ill of him. Do not fear.  I will not let either Odin nor that beast touch you.”

Loki had no such plans, either. “You cannot act openly. You heard the Allfather.” He stared into Thor’s eyes and saw nothing of himself in those electric blues. How could he have been so blind?

Thor’s face hardened, stubborn and angry and hungry. Perfect. “Then we must find other means.” He shook his head and squeezed Loki’s hands. His disbelief of the situation was as clear as his lightning, Loki’s blue skin forgotten in the face of the pale lie before him.

Loki hid a smile. That went much easier than he expected. Foolish Thor. Never change.

“I might have a plan,” he said.

Thor hunched over their entangled hands and listened as Loki spoke. All the while, Loki pretended like Thor’s massive hands didn’t distract him, like it didn’t feel like Thor’s grip alone held him together. It reminded him too much of those same hands holding him after his nightmares when he was a child.

Nightmares of Frost Giants. Nightmares inspired by Thor’s own tales.

_ Kill all the monsters. _

Thor listened intently, hands tender and secure on Loki’s. His hands felt too warm. “We can do this, Brother, if we are clever and quick and quiet,” Loki said, and didn’t flinch when Thor squeezed his hands.

xoxoxox

By the time Loki reached his rooms, blood soaked his bandages and trailed down his wrist, and night had fallen on Asgard.

And on his bed, resting against his pillow, were creamy white flowers from a blackthorn plant.

Loki stilled and stared, barely conscious of the blood sliding down his fingers. He could smell her perfume now, sweet and gentle around him: lily of the valley. His hands convulsed and blood splashed to the floor.

Frigga.

Loki trembled as he walked to the bed, the air molasses. She had come while he talked with Thor and wasn’t it a good thing he cleaned? Must keep up appearances, must keep up appearances. Such a peaceful room she entered, no sign of blood be it red or violet. No signs of violence or rage or Loki’s monstrosity. Even his bed was made, perfect place to set the flowers.

Had she lingered? Had she waited? Or had she only set the flowers and left? Was she happy or grieved that he sought out Thor before her?

Loki’s fingers shook as he reached for the flowers. Loki knew from whence they came: her garden. Underneath the tree where they sat together, so long ago, with her whispering lessons in his ear and illusions coming to life before them. Flowers and thorns rose around them, but there was no thorn on Asgard which would dare pierce her.

He could not face her. Not yet. Not until he proved himself.

When Loki pulled his hand away, red dotted the white flowers. Loki frowned and looked down. Still bleeding. How annoying.

He stared and the white of his hand darkened. Saliva built in his mouth as the pallor of his nails died, nothing but corpse-black. Loki swallowed but it didn’t help, bile acidic in his throat. The blue infected not just flesh but blood, and Loki shook as it dripped onto the bed, so close to her flowers.

“Stop,” he whispered. His triumph over Thor seemed so far away now. His blood made no sound when it hit the blanket. “Stop it.”

Loki blinked and his hand was white again, nails just short of a healthy pink. He exhaled and tangled his fingers together, smearing red everywhere.

He couldn’t face her. He had to prove himself. To her. To everyone. He stared at the flowers, at the bright red there. Not violet. Not monstrous.  _ Red. _

On his desk was a decanter of water, as well as a goblet and a plate of meats, fruits, and cheeses. Loki’s stomach revolted at the sight of food, but he poured himself some water as he thought. 

_ “You are my brother,” _ Thor told him when Loki left his chambers.  _ “I love you. Never forget.” _

Spoken with eyes still as red as a child’s, and as guileless as one, too. Nothing but lies, even if the fool hadn’t realized it yet. Soon enough Thor would recall his place  _ and _ Loki’s, and if Loki did not secure his life prior to then, Thor would end it. 

Odin was another challenge, one Loki did not feel confident enough to confront yet. Not until he had his other pieces in place. Who knew how long the Allfather would continue this facade now that the secret was out? The ravens followed him all the way back to his room, not even bothering to hide. More reminders of Loki’s proper place.

Loki sipped his water, blood trickling down his arm. If he wished to continue his life, not just living but as an Asgardian prince, he needed to act quickly.

And the Jotunn needed to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more Loki and ficcage info, feel free to follow me on my [tumblr](http://tirsynni.tumblr.com/)!


	4. Chapter 4

 

“The solution is simple, Brother,” Loki had told him. “We start a war.”

The most Aesir of solutions. Give Thor the bloodbath he desired. Create a firm barrier between the Aesir and the Frost Giants,  _ just in case _ Odin dared considered returning Loki to that monstrous land. Allow Loki to prove himself to the royal family of where he stood: with the Aesir against those monsters. Have Thor fire up the soldiers, have Thor lead the way with Mjolnir.  

Thor on the frontlines allowed many, many possibilities, so many Loki’s fractured mind stumbled to make sense of them all. Just attempting dizzied him.

Soon all would see.  _ Odin _ would see.

They set out at dawn, Loki’s magic again covering them like a shroud away from Heimdall’s prying gaze. Even Odin’s ravens flew in circles, screeching their confusion, as Thor’s hammer whisked them away from the city.

There were many paths, Loki told Thor. They connected Asgard to the other Realms, as well as other locations among Yggdrasil’s branches. The easiest way, Loki knew, would be to use the path which led from Jotunheim to the palace, but he didn’t tell Thor that. He wanted Thor’s hands soaked in violet blood.

No, this path led to the forests at the foot of the mountains: the favored hunting ground of the Asgardian elite. “Tyr  _ must _ be a member of the hunting party that day,” Loki repeated, fighting to keep his distaste off his face. A light storm swept snow through the forest, coating everything with a light layer of snow. Crunching through it now reminded Loki of all the times he teased Thor for his better resilience to cold elements. How those words taunted him now.

Thor hummed, something odd in the sound. Perhaps the plan was too confusing for him. 

“Between you and Tyr, the Allfather will have to agree to war.” Loki jerked his head in a fierce nod. Perfect. All of it would be perfect. He could already hear the Aesir baying for Frost Giant blood. Everything would go smoothly and the feeling of ants crawling over his bones would cease.

His right arm itched, and he tangled his fingers together to keep from scratching it. Thor already seemed too quiet and tense without upsetting him further. Instead of grinning and bounding forward, Thor kept looking at him, mouth tight in a fretful line which made him look like Frigga.

Too many unknowns, all settling like rocks in Loki’s stomach. The way Thor kept looking at him… Thor’s impulsivity and bloodlust could work against Loki as easily as it could with him.

But Thor didn’t look angry. Instead, he looked worried. The expression shifted Thor’s face into unfamiliar lines, and Loki’s heart beat faster at the distress in Thor’s eyes. What could possibly be causing him to react so? All of this should be easy, granting them both what they desired!

Loki clenched his hands together and forced a smile. “Just a little farther, Brother. Wait for me, and I’ll --”

“Are you, Brother?”

Loki stumbled, and Thor grabbed his bicep, steadying him. Before he could stop himself, Loki yanked away. Thor flinched. Loki bit the inside of his cheek and forced another smile. “Am I what, Brother? Old enough to walk alone?”

Thor stopped, so of course Loki had to stop, too. Around them, the forest seemed terrifying still and quiet, the only noise the soft thumps of snow falling from laden branches. Loki shivered, feeling the chill in his bones even if his skin didn’t. With the snow, everything seemed too pale. Dead. He rubbed his hands together and tried not to think about corpse-black nails.

Thor didn’t smile. The lines bracketing his mouth deepening, lending age to his face. He stared hard at Loki, as if he tried hard enough he could see to the heart of him. “I did not wish to believe it, and no matter what happens, you are my brother and kin. You are, above all others, dear to me.” At last, Thor broke, looking into the grey of the forest and wiping his mouth. “I --”

With a crack like ice breaking, Loki’s mind blanked. He looked at Thor, at Mjolnir hanging casually from his belt, and his clever mind offered nothing. He heard himself say, “What nonsense do you speak? Come, before we are missed.”

Yet Thor didn’t move. Panic scrambled in Loki’s chest like a nest of rats. When had he last seen Thor appear so solemn? 

Thor turned back to Loki and rested a heavy hand on the back of his neck. Its heat burned. The familiar gesture provided no comfort when Thor’s serious face seemed so alien. A stranger when everything in Loki’s life upturned itself, not even Thor untouched.

“I fear I am unlike you and Father,” Thor said, each word slow, as if he weighed them before speaking. “I lack your cleverness, your quickness of mind, your depth of sight. For many matters, I rely on you to lead us through mazes from which Mjolnir cannot free us.”

Loki’s heart pounded so hard it hurt, fingers and toes tingling. He tried to swallow but ice ( _ always ice always ice _ ) lodged in his throat. “Thus you must trust me now, Brother, and grand us both our hearts’ desire.”

But Thor only shook his head, carefully, like his skull would roll from his neck if he moved too quickly. In Loki’s chest, a flock of frightened birds seemed to take flight, scratching at his lungs and ribs. “Yesterday, I would have agreed. Now I fear I must question.” Thor leaned forward, and instinctively, Loki leaned back. Thor stilled. Each words came soft from his mouth. “I fear yesterday I led you astray from my own foolishness and today you lead us both astray from your fear. We go to hunt monsters, but…” Thor swallowed. “How can they possibly be monsters if they gave me you?”

_ But they didn’t! They left me in the snow to die, and Odin took me just like he took their damned chest! _ Loki jerked away from Thor, each breath torn from him.  _ Worthless to them and nothing but a war prize to Odin! _

“The great Thor admits fear then?” Loki demanded. “Where has gone your conviction? Your courage?  _ Centuries _ of planning their deaths?”

Thor had  _ no right _ to look at Loki like that. “Centuries when I did not know the gift they gave to me. How could they be monsters when they created someone as clever as you?”

Loki barely heard the words, only the sentiment.  _ Thor _ , the warmonger, the warrior, professing peace instead of war? No. No. This could not be happening. Snarling, he lunged forward and grabbed Thor’s wrist. A bare portion of his mind noted the blood trailing down his wrist to stain both of them. “Perhaps a  _ reminder _ , then, will help you.”

Loki yanked and Thor yelped as the world tore around them. Seconds later, there was only the crushed and bloodied snow showing where they had been.

Yggdrasil’s branches led to all nine realms and beyond if one was brave and canny. Far enough, Nidhogg waited, terrible and terrifying, oblivion in his hungry mouth. As Loki pulled Thor along, Yggdrasil’s order fighting against the chaos of the Void, something in him whispered to keep going. Take Thor past Jotunheim, down down down, and show him what true madness truly was.The thought was so strong -- so  _ real _ \-- that when they stepped onto Jotunheim’s icy plains once more, Loki had to stop and stare.

Thor did not. He yanked his arm away and scowled at Loki. “Brother, what are you doing?”

Endless white and blue, and somewhere buried in it was both Loki’s real and false blood. “Reminding you.”

Like before, nothing but ice and snow for miles. Loki tangled his now free hands together, blood staining his fingers, and stared out. He wasn’t cold but goosebumps rose on his skin. Were they killing another child now? Unworthy, unwanted? Abandoned to the elements?

_ Good riddance _ , Loki thought, hatred burning inside him. Perhaps the only mercy these monsters knew.

He turned to Thor, to see if he stared out into this nothing with the same bloodlust as before, but Thor only looked down at the wrist Loki had grabbed. Frowning, he looked to Loki’s hands, red and sticky. “Brother --” Thor reached out, and like before, Loki stepped away.

How dare he.  _ How dare he. _ Loki snarled and whipped out a hand toward the snow, blood splattering in an arc. “I hide us from the Watcher’s gaze yet again! I bring us here once again! Have your death,  _ Brother _ . Have your war!”

Yet  _ still _ Thor refused to look. This time when he reached out, he caught Loki’s arm, massive hand squeezing unhealed flesh. Thor’s countenance darkened. “You are wounded. Cease this madness. We will go home and --”

Home? There was no  _ home _ for  _ Loki.  _ There was only ice and snow and death and fading away in the shadows.

Thor jerked away with a hiss of pain, and only then did Loki realize he stabbed Thor in the side.

Blood, so red and bright and the color of Aesir life, splashed to join Loki’s in the snow. Loki stared at it, his pulse pounding in his skull, and felt something shatter inside him.

“Brother, cease this!” Thor grabbed his wounded side with one hand, and he rested the other on Mjolnir. Laughter -- or perhaps madness -- bubbled in Loki’s chest. Yes.  _ This _ was what he had truly wanted.  _ This  _ was the truth when everything else were lies. Loki’s  _ seidr _ lashed inside him, burning himself from the inside out, ready to explode.

“Kill all the monsters, you said,” Loki threw out, taking a step back. “This is truly the best place to start: with the one daring to wear Aesir skin, the monster you called kin.”

Because wouldn’t that be the worst insult to Thor? That a monster had been in his home? That he had hugged one and told it he loved it? That it dared call itself a Prince of Asgard? His  _ kin _ ?

His  _ brother _ ?

Yet Thor’s hand fell away from Mjolnir. Blood seeped from the fingers of his other hand. Loki couldn’t recognize the look on his face. “No, Brother. I will not fight you.”

Blood beaded from the knife wound but already it was slowing, healing. The red would stop soon, but it didn’t matter. The red would always be under Thor’s skin. His truth winning out over Loki’s lies. As always.

Howling, Loki threw himself at Thor, knives flashing in his hands. How dare he how dare he  _ how dare he how  _ **_dare he_ ** \--

Thor dodged one knife but the other sliced along his shoulder. He cursed and barely jerked his head aside, the knife whistling by his cheek. “Brother, stop this!”

But Loki could see it now: the rage building in Thor’s eyes, the lightning along his skin. Loki laughed and it spiraled from him, wild and broken, but he didn’t care. “Always in your shadow, and of course I was. Odin always knew what I was, and  _ of course _ he could not allow a  _ monster _ to be equal to his son!”

Thor grabbed for his arm and struck the bleeding gashes. Loki snarled and stumbled back, and that was all Thor needed to press his advantage. Faster than his girth should allow, he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Loki, pinning his hands and knives to his sides. “ _ Enough _ of this. You are clearly unwell. We are going home and --”

His magic refused to cooperate, refuse to let him flee from Thor’s grasp. Loki shrieked and transformed, mind and body lost in a swirl. Thor shouted at the serpent hissing in his arms but didn’t let go. Loki snapped at him but they were too close, bodies intertwined, and Thor dodged by ducking his head and pressing his forehead below Loki’s jaw.

“ _ Stop _ . Drop your spell! Heimdall, the Bifrost!”

Loki’s hiss transformed into a howl, and Thor shouted as the wolf’s claws scratched at him. He was still too close to bite, massive jaws useless, but his claws were strong and sharp. He snarled and howled and it echoed through the nothing.

Yet Thor  _ still  _ didn’t let go. His muscles flexed, face growing red with exertion, and Thor squeezed him close in a mockery of a hug even as his blood streamed down his body. “I cannot understand the madness which has taken you, Brother, but I am here. I will not leave.”

Loki’s howl shredded him, shredded the air around him. He twisted his head and tried to  _ bite _ , uncaring of what he bit or the damage or anything but freedom. Thor was  _ too close _ and as a wolf Loki could smell him, the scent carrying memories of huddling with his brother during long nights, Loki reading them tales or Thor recalling grand stories of battle or foretelling adventures they would have one day, when it was just ThorandLoki, before Thor grew too bright and left Loki behind.

Too bright and Loki  _ burned _ , not a beast but  _ fire _ , and Thor cried out in pain but  _ refused to let go _ . Lightning crackled, Thor’s elemental power surging around them, holding Loki in his arms even as the snow melted and the ice cracked around them.

“I will  _ not _ let you go.”

Fire and then ice and another burn scorched Thor’s skin, Loki changing without his permission or knowledge. He wailed but it wasn’t  _ his _ voice, a monstrous echo there, and his blood-red eyes reflected back in him from Thor’s blue. 

He only ever wanted to be Thor’s equal, but the truth stared back at him now. There was no equality there. Loki knew the stories. He knew how this went.

Thor didn’t, or perhaps he was too stubborn to care. His armor cracked, freezing and breaking, and agony lined his eyes and mouth. Yet, still, the idiot held on.

“I love you, Brother,” Thor said, voice impossibly clear even if tight with pain, “and it is time for us to go home. Together.”

Loki screamed but had nothing left. His magic, traitorous and broken, fled from him. Pale and false again, he slumped into Thor’s arms. Their blood painted the snow red and violet. Holding him close, raising one hand to press Loki’s head against his shoulder, Thor looked up. “Heimdall. Bring us home.”

The last thing Loki saw before the Bifrost swept them away was a Frost Giant, standing on an icy cliff, staring at them.

Laufey said nothing as his blood son vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the epilogue left. Sorry for the long, long delay! I realized I screwed up this chapter and then got stressed by the massive rewrite necessary. :(
> 
> For more Loki and Thor love, I'm on [tumblr](http://tirsynni.tumblr.com/).


	5. Chapter 5

Lady Eir was quick to realize that Thor was not susceptible to logic or common sense. She bid several healers to help her move two beds close to each other so Thor would at last yield to treatment. Burns, frostbite, and wounds from knife and claw littered Thor’s body. He noticed them as much as he noticed Lady Eir’s fussing. 

Not at all.

By the time Frigga and Odin arrived, all but Lady Eir had gone. Lady Eir kept the door to the healing room cracked to listen for her patients even as she updated her king and queen. Thor barely noticed that, either. He sat on the edge of Loki’s bed, holding his brother’s hand. Even wounded and exhausted, his skin remained a healthy tan, dark against the pallor of Loki’s skin. Against the bandages trailing from wrist to elbow.

_ Self-inflicted wounds _ . 

Thor didn’t understand. He didn’t understand any of this. He didn’t understand his brother’s madness. Didn’t understand how his brother could be  _ anything _ but his brother. Didn’t understand his parents’ lies, nor Loki’s. Didn’t understand how Loki could shred his own arm or lead him to what could have been their destruction.

Rubbing his thumb along the back of Loki’s hand, Thor studied his brother’s face. Pale and thin and as familiar, if not moreso, as his own face. He looked asleep, bloodshot green eyes closed, but Thor didn’t know. Didn’t know anything now. Just in case, he whispered, over and over again, “I love you, Brother. Everything will be well. I promise you that.”

Loki didn’t respond. He hadn’t said anything since Heimdall returned them to Asgard.

The Realm Eternal moved slowly, true change taking centuries, gradual but with a hard certainty to it, eclipsing the past and losing it to legend, if even that. The speed of this madness left Thor dizzy. 

“All will be well. All will be well…”

_ When I am King… _

Why keep this a secret? Why had Loki attacked him? Why had Loki attacked  _ himself? _

If Loki was truly a Jotun, at least in part, what did that make the rest of them?

Only days before, Thor felt like he knew everything. He knew his parents (loving Frigga, wise but too comfortable Odin) and he knew his brother (clever, playful,  _ little brother  _ Loki) and he knew his role (future king who would bring glory to Asgard and he knew the Frost Giants (monsters all) and he knew their past and he knew their future.

Now Thor realized he knew nothing at all.

The voices outside quieted. Thor didn’t turn his head. He traced his brother’s features with his eyes. There was a statue of Odin by Loki’s rooms and a portrait of Odin, young and with both eyes, further down. He always thought Loki looked much like their father when he was young, with his dark hair and fair skin, and thought he had their mother’s more slender build. He always thought that Loki had Odin’s eyes from that statue, sharp and penetrating, even if the color was wrong. Now he could only see Loki, every feature purely  _ Loki’s _ .

“All will be well,” he repeated. He took his free hand and dug his fingers into his side, where Loki’s wolf-claws had dug deep. When Thor pulled his hand away, his fingers glistened with fresh blood. Carefully, gently, he painted his own sigil -- Thurisaz -- on top of Loki’s bandages. May the Norns let the blood seep in, giving Loki at least one tether.

“I love you. All will be well, Brother.”

The door creaked farther open. At last, Thor turned from Loki to watch his mother step into the room. The door shut behind her. As she walked over to them to settle on Loki’s other side, Thor noted the fear in her eyes, hidden but too clear to his sharpened gaze. His mother, who always soothed their own fears, who was always calm, always strong, always regal. Who wept when Loki fled from them.

Truly, Thor knew nothing at all.

“All will be well,” he said and watched Frigga take Loki’s other hand. Loki never twitched. “All will be well, Brother.”

Thor waited for the door to creak open again, for Odin to enter the room, but the door remained closed.

“I love you, Brother. All will be well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more Loki and Thor love (of a sort), check me out on [tumblr](http://tirsynni.tumblr.com/).

**Author's Note:**

> For more Loki and fic info, check out my [tumblr](http://tirsynni.tumblr.com/). :D


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